


First, They're Going To Erase You

by daftalchemist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Carlos wants all of the tentacles in his butt, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn With Plot, Re-Education, Tentacle Sex, Wall Sex, all of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftalchemist/pseuds/daftalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil says more than he should on the air and is taken away to have a chat with the secret police. When he returns a week later, he seems like the same old Cecil, except for one major difference: he doesn't remember Carlos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks (so far) to antique-rain (from Tumblr) and f1rstperson. More beta thanks to be added if more people beta.
> 
> Shouldn't take too long between chapter updates, but we'll see what happens between school and work and writing sweet, sweet Night Vale smut

Everything was a swirling black vortex of uncertainty, and at the center of it a little town that couldn’t be bothered to care that it was the most uncertain thing of all. Normal went there to die, and Carlos certainly felt like parts of himself had died since he set foot in Night Vale, though the parts of him that he’d discovered were rapidly filling those gaping holes in his identity, sometimes unpleasantly. His propensity to handle the strange was one of those discovered things, though whether he had discovered it because it was increasing or rapidly diminishing was still up for debate.

“Carlos.”

He could handle the common occurrences of both death and dismemberment, or at least he thought he could. He didn’t like to think about it too much.

“Carlos.”

He could handle the incessant buzzing in his mind, like radio static, or a swarm of bees flying angrily around in there like so many thoughts he wanted to reach out and grasp and know, but received only pain. So much to learn about Night Vale, and so much of it unlearnable.

“ _Carlos_.”

Why did he even stay? There was nothing truly holding him here, just some mysteries that begged to be questioned but refused to be solved. The grant money wouldn’t last long, he knew that much. Carlos wasn’t even sure how’d he’d gotten it to begin with since the outside world seemed to deny the existence of Night Vale just as strongly as Night Vale denied the existence of mountains. So why was he still here?

“Carlos, _really_ ,” Cecil scolded, pulling Carlos out of his mind, “now you’re just being _rude_.”

Carlos dragged a hand through his shaggy hair, unable to get it trimmed for reasons he still didn’t fully understand, shaking off the last thoughts clinging to his consciousness before sighing and focusing on the pizza in front of him, the dingy brick of the walls around him, the garbled music lilting sporadically through staticy speakers, and the slightly perturbed violet-eyed man sitting across from him in a magenta cardigan.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and went back to “enjoying” his mandatory pizza, and Cecil’s face softened immediately.

“Were you in another gloom?” he asked, rubbing the back of Carlos’ hand lovingly.

Carlos scrunched up his nose in indignation. “No! I was just...thinking.”

Cecil smiled and rested his chin on the back of his hand. “It looked like you were thinking gloomy things.”

 _All things are gloomy in Night Vale_ , was what Carlos wanted to say, but instead said, “What were you talking about?”

“Oh!” Cecil said as he clapped his hands together, having already forgotten his original line of thought. “That new radio tower on the edge of town. It’s not one of ours, you know, and I was talking to Jason, the secret policeman who hangs around the radio station?”

Carlos nodded, though he couldn’t tell one officer from the next with their balaclavas and all.

“ _Well_ ,” Cecil continued, leaning over the table in excitement. “He said it’s not one of theirs _either_. They don’t know where it came from! _I_ think it might be from that government agency that goes snooping around here sometimes.”

Carlos nearly choked on the bite of pizza he’d been attempting to swallow. “That seems like the sort of thing you shouldn’t be talking about, let alone _acknowledging_ , Cecil. I mean, I’m no expert...”

Cecil waved the comment away. “It’s fine. It’s not like I’m on the radio, right?”

Carlos couldn’t disagree with that.

“ _Oh_!” Cecil shouted gleefully. “ _Speaking_ of the radio, you’ll never _guess_ where my listeners suggested we should have our next date.”

“Oh _god_ , Cecil,” Carlos groaned, putting down his slice and resting his head in his hands. “Why are you asking them for _date ideas_?”

“B-but I’m _not_!” he sputtered. “They just call in with ideas when I talk about you. I can’t _help_ it. They like hearing about my boyfriend.”

Carlos sighed, becoming a bit exasperated with that word. How many dates had they been on? Three? Five? Possibly ten? It was so hard to remember. They all just sort of blended together in a mess horrific interruptions and bad food. And how often had Cecil used that word? All the time, every time, ever since the first date. It was ridiculous for Carlos to be so put off by it because they honestly _were_ boyfriends, if Carlos felt like being honest about it, but the man had fallen in love with Carlos instantly, from a _smile_! He couldn’t help but feel a little hesitant to go making things official yet. Cecil knew, because Carlos reminded him every time, but it seemed the idea was planted firmly in his head anyway, so he just ignored it.

“Why _are_ you talking about us on the radio after all this time?” Carlos asked, wiping copious amounts of grease off his hands. “We don’t do anything exciting.”

Cecil blushed a soft violet. “I can think of many exciting things we’ve done.”

Carlos was glad he had finished eating because he would have choked to death right then if he wasn’t. “You don’t talk about _that_ , do you?!”

“No!” Cecil squeaked. “Of _course_ not, but it’s more fun to talk about spending time with you than whatever the city council is up to.”

Carlos couldn’t disagree with that either.

“ _Oh_ , I have to go,” said Cecil despondently as he glanced at his watch. “The night won’t start without me on the radio.”

Carlos would have laughed, but he was almost certain that was actually how time functioned in Night Vale, so instead he leaned over the table, grabbed Cecil by the chin, and pulled him into a kiss.

Cecil came away blushing even brighter purple and biting his lower lip, and he whispered, “Walk me to my car?”

Carlos couldn’t refuse the request anymore than he could keep himself from pressing himself against Cecil’s body, pinning him to the car with his hips as he parted the radio host’s lips with his tongue and kissed him deeply. Cecil moaned softly into his mouth as he ran his fingers through Carlos’ shaggy locks, rolling his hips gently against Carlos’ before Carlos pulled away. Cecil pouted and whined, snaking his arms under Carlos’ labcoat to grab at his ass.

“You have to go to work,” Carlos grinned, and Cecil groaned in frustration.

“Or you could invite me inside instead?” he asked hopefully, eyes heavy lidded as he bit his lip.

“Nope, work first,” Carlos replied, removing Cecil’s hands from his behind. “And don’t you _dare_ talk about any of this on the air. I’ll be listening.”

“Okay, but _after_?” Cecil asked as he wrapped his arms around Carlos’ neck, voice hitching up in a whine at the end.

“After you can touch my butt all you want,” he said, and kissed Cecil on the tip of his nose. “Promise.”

The overjoyed squeal Cecil responded with was almost inhuman, and he was driving off into the evening a moment later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil goes a little too far on the air. All Carlos can do is listen to him be taken away.

“The mayor’s office would like to remind everyone that Take Your Child to Work Day is mandatory, and that none of the children will be returned. They recommend bringing your least favorite child, or kidnapping your neighbor’s child to spare your own. I, of course, won’t be bringing a child in as I’ve been banned from all municipally mandated holidays after the incident three years ago on National Talk Like A Pirate Day.”

Carlos made a mental note to ask about the incident as he grabbed a screwdriver and flashlight, preparing to gut five defunct PCs for parts so he could upgrade the remaining five that still managed to work. Despite their best efforts to remove all specimens from the lab, the gray clock ooze had somehow developed a new strain that seemed to prefer hiding out inside computers, and were wreaking havoc on the hardware. None of the researchers had yet figured out how this new strain had come into existence since the ooze wasn’t even alive and therefore shouldn’t have been able to adapt to a new environment.

“To get personal with you for a moment, listeners, I have to ask that you stop calling in with date ideas. It seems my perfect Carlos wants to decide where to take me out all on his own and, well, I’m certainly not about to discourage him from spending his spare moments thinking about me! He’s so sweet, trying to be romantic all on his own. Why, just tonight...oh, actually listeners, I can’t tell you about tonight. I made a promise not to.”

Carlos smiled as he untangled all of the cords leading from the power supply, a frustrating task as it behaved rather like an octopus that refused to be removed from its home. Normally his requests to not be spoken of on the radio went unremembered. Cecil must _really_ be looking forward to what would be happening after the show if he was being on his best behavior like that.

“In other news...has anyone else noticed the new radio tower on the edge of town?”

Carlos dropped the power supply, swiveling his head towards the radio so quickly he was surprised he didn’t snap his neck.

“It’s not one of ours, you know. I spoke to the sheriff’s secret police earlier, and they said it’s not one of theirs either.”

“Oh no,” Carlos muttered, looking around anxiously for his cell phone. “No, _no_ , _shit_!”

“ _I_ think it was set up by that vague, yet menacing government agency that seems to enjoy snooping around here, though I have no idea why they would set up an extra radio tower. The agents, of course, are nearly impossible to find and therefore could not be asked for comment on the matter, but I’m sure that they wouldn’t have answered any questions about it anyway.”

He’d had the damn thing just _two minutes_ ago; where the _hell_ had he put his phone? It wasn’t on his desk, on the tables... _his pocket_!

“I sent intern Phillip out to investigate it, although he has neither called in about it nor returned. I don’t want to be pessimistic and consider this a failure to uphold quality news reporting just yet since he’s still so new to the post, but I think it would be prudent to preemptively offer our condolences to his family nonetheless.”

The line was ringing. Carlos could hear Cecil’s phone vibrating on his desk over the radio as he _willed_ Cecil to pick it up and just stop talking about the damned radio tower already!

“Hmm? What’s this? A call from...well, I shouldn’t say. It’s private, personal business that shouldn’t be spoken about on the radio, much like the radio tower that is broadcasting who even knows what all throughout our fair town.”

“ _Pick up_ , dammit!” Carlos bellowed into his cell. “ _Pick UP_!”

“Well...I really _shouldn’t_ take this, but that’s certainly never stopped me before.”

The line clicked, the sound of live speakers, but before Carlos could tell Cecil to shut up, another louder click came over the line and through the radio, like a door opening.

“ _Oh_...hello gentlemen. Yes, I know. I’ll come without a fuss.”

The phone line went dead, and Carlos’ chest clenched painfully. “Cecil? _Cecil_!”

“Sorry, listeners, but it seems these secret police officers would like to have a chat with me. This will probably take a while, unfortunately, so...here’s the weather forecast for the next week.”

The warbling tones of some young songbird lamenting her lost love came filtering out of Carlos’ radio as he stood frozen in a panic, phone still held to his ear as though at any second Cecil might call him and tell him not to worry, nothing was wrong, he’d see Carlos later. But the song ended, and the next one began, and still nothing. He told himself he was worrying needlessly. Cecil had said the secret police just wanted to _talk_ , so that’s what they’d do, and he just had to be patient. The song ended, and the next one started. Carlos went back to his work, stripping out all the useable parts of the PCs he had opened. He lost track of the music, lost track of time, lost track of his thoughts. The next thing he knew the computers were stripped, all useable parts strewn across the table, and the radio played nothing but dead air. It was late, and completely possible that dead air was just scheduled after Cecil’s show that night, but he would have come over after it, and he obviously wasn’t in the lab so...where was he?

Carlos snatched up the keys to his truck and headed to the radio station, but Cecil’s car wasn’t there, and neither was Cecil. His apartment was also empty, and there was no sign he’d been home yet. Carlos checked his phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, but it was just as empty as Cecil’s apartment; no texts, no voicemails, no missed calls. Just that last call he’d made, taunting him for making it too late. Too late for...for _what_? Carlos had never really paid attention to Cecil’s stories about what the secret police did. He’d always figured it was either ridiculous or something he didn’t have to worry about. He kept his nose clean, aside from a few pens hidden away in the lab.

Carlos collapsed to his knees outside Cecil’s apartment, barely registering the tears slowly running down his cheeks as his lungs constricted around each painful breath, vision blurring. He ran a hand through his hair, long overdue for a cut, and tugged on it, hoping the pain would focus his thoughts. But they were scattered like dry leaves on a wind, whirling around out of reach as a thousand horrific what-if’s filled him. And in the middle of the whirlwind, one question: _where was his boyfriend_?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos searches for Cecil, but he has all but vanished into thin air

Carlos stopped by Cecil’s apartment the next morning to see if he’d returned, but he hadn’t. He still hadn’t returned later in the evening when Carlos went to his apartment again, nor had he returned over the next few days when he periodically checked in. Cecil wasn’t at home and, more distressingly, he wasn’t on the radio. Night Vale Community Radio had pulled some wet behind the ears intern out of a hat and released her onto the airwaves, and it was terrible. She had no presence, and her voice was pitiful given whose shoes she was filling, but that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was when they used pre-recorded advertisements and announcements, and Cecil’s voice would suddenly come through Carlos’ radio speakers. The worst part was how even after so many times of hearing the same messages over and over, he’d still think for one brief moment that Cecil had finally returned, was sitting in his chair and wearing his headphones, was about to apologize for being silent for so long. After a while, Carlos learned to turn the radio off entirely so he didn’t end up a crumpled heap on the floor, sobbing quietly as the rest of his team cleaned up the glass from the test tube he’d dropped. None of them said anything to him in either encouragement or admonishment, and they didn’t ask him to leave either. Carlos didn’t say anything, but he was thankful they didn’t. Keeping busy was the only thing holding him together. Keeping busy and scouring the town for his lost boyfriend.

It was a disproportionately difficult task to find one well-known man in such a small town, and it was made all the more difficult by the fact that no one was willing to talk to Carlos about Cecil. Just mentioning his name had people shooting him fearful glances and scurrying off. It was a testament to how badly Carlos wanted to find him that he didn’t stop asking entirely. He might not know everything there was to know about Night Vale, but he _did_ know that anything the townsfolk considered frightening, he should consider frightening as well.

But Carlos couldn’t stop searching, no matter how many warnings flared up in his mind: that he might get taken in for questioning, suffer the same fate as Cecil, simply disappear. He was already aware he was being tailed by the secret police. Not that it was hard to figure out since he was the only person in town actually willing to speak to Carlos, bringing up even more questions about what secret things the secret police were doing exactly that were being covered up by an incredibly believable veil of incompetency. He’d ask Carlos things like “some weather we’re having, huh?” and “did you hear about that thing on the radio? Anything at all. Name one thing”. Carlos knew better than to respond or even acknowledge the man. He was testing him. Carlos was snooping around, trying to find answers to things he shouldn’t even have been questioning to begin with. The secret police wanted to know how far he’d slipped, just itching for a chance to bring him in and not have to worry about all the attentions he was stirring up by asking one simple question: _where is the voice of Night Vale_?

Carlos didn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him make any mistakes. He still participated in as many horrifying daily rituals as he cared to. He still went to Big Rico’s for his mandatory pizza. In fact, he went to Big Rico’s every day, hoping against hope that he might find Cecil there sitting in a corner, waiting for Carlos to join him so he could scold the scientist for being late, as he always did. He frequently worried he might break some mandated upper limit on how much Big Rico’s a person was allowed to consume in a week, though without Cecil around, he didn’t have anyone to tell him about arbitrary municipal rules anymore.

It was in moments like that when Carlos realized just how much of a jerk he’d been for ignoring all of Cecil’s insane stories about the town, his warnings about how to act. He realized how important Cecil was to Night Vale, and to _him_. It had only been four days, hardly any time at all, and Carlos was out of his mind with grief and worry, barely able to function as normally as Night Vale allowed, and he doubted he would be feeling any better if Cecil hadn’t left in such an abrupt and mysterious manner. He just...he’d never appreciated Cecil as much as he should have, spending all his time just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for that gorgeous, passionate man to realize that Carlos was far from perfect. He had certainly acted less than perfect.

The fifth day without Cecil was just the same as the other four: wake up in a daze, check the lab for Cecil, check the Ralph’s for Cecil, check Cecil’s apartment for Cecil, check the radio station, check the Arby’s, the Subway, the bowling alley, the park, don’t find Cecil, _never_ find Cecil, weep silently on the way to Big Rico’s.

But the fifth day without Cecil was different. On the way to Big Rico’s, someone clapped a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, and he spun around to find a very remorseful looking Steve Carlsberg.

“I’m so sorry,” he said and squeezed Carlos’ shoulder softly before turning to walk away.

“ _Wait_!” Carlos shouted after he tore himself out of shocked silence. “What do you _know_?”

Steve turned and shook his head, smiling sadly, before leaving Carlos frozen in his tracks, gaping in astonishment at the tiny change that spoke such volumes. _Someone_ knew; someone _other_ than him. He wasn’t crazy. Something really was wrong. Horribly, terribly, _atrociously_ wrong because _Steve Carlsberg_ , the town instigator, felt _sorry_ for him and...and…

And he _really_ was never going to find Cecil, was he?

Carlos didn’t go to Big Rico’s that day. He went home, crawled under his blanket, and did his absolute best to not suffocate on the pain in his chest.

He didn’t emerge until later that night, and he did so with a suitcase. Night Vale had officially rid of him any reason to live there any longer, and he had no desire to stay. It didn’t matter that he didn’t quite remember how he had gotten into Night Vale to begin with, he tossed his suitcase into his truck and drove. He was a smart guy; he’d figure a way out.

It was dark, incredibly late. Cecil would be on the radio now if Cecil still existed. Carlos would have dismantled the walls of the dog park if he could just hear Cecil talk about him on the radio one last time. Something, _anything_ , to distract him from the gnawing ache in his heart. But Carlos was either distracted quite enough already, or the man in the road had really appeared out of nowhere.

It didn’t take much effort to swerve out of the way without landing in a ditch, but a single man walking along the road so late at night only had a few reasonable outcomes in Night Vale, and none of those outcomes were good. Despite how much he wanted to leave the cursed town in his rear view mirror, Carlos felt compelled to check on the man.

“Hey!” he called out as he climbed out of his truck, and it wasn’t terribly surprising when the man didn’t respond. He was staggering awkwardly towards the town, and Carlos suddenly realized that they’d never experienced a zombie outbreak in the time he’d lived in Night Vale, and briefly wondered if that was about to change. “Are you okay?”

The man stopped, turned slowly, moonlight glinting off of glasses, and Carlos’ heart stopped.

“ _Cecil_ ,” he whispered before breaking into a run, throwing his arms around the radio host’s neck, and gripped him tight as he sobbed. “I thought you were dead, or _worse_.”

Cecil didn’t respond, which was incredibly worrisome, and Carlos pulled away to find an incredibly shocked and horrified look on Cecil’s face.

“I’m sorry, really,” he said, slowly, cautiously, “but... _who_ are you?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bittersweet reunion with eye-opening revelations

Despite his disoriented state, or perhaps in spite of it, it didn’t take much fuss to convince Cecil that he should let Carlos drive him home. What was surprising was that he knew where home was, right down to the address. He knew his name, his job, and the identity of every citizen of Night Vale as well except...well…

“So, you don’t remember everything?” Carlos asked, breaking yet another uncomfortable silence.

“That depends,” Cecil responded, staring idly out the window, “on if I’m really supposed to remember you, or if we’ve never actually met before. Because it could be either of those options.”

“No, you _are_ supposed to remember me,” Carlos insisted. “Everyone in town will tell you that. Or at least...I think they will. I’ve never dealt with...whatever this is before. This situation specifically. Do you know what happened?”

“Well, you found me on a road,” he said, rubbing his forehead and squinting as though in pain, “so...I guess I was taking a walk?”

Carlos slammed on the breaks and they squealed to a halt.

“What was that about?” Cecil shouted, looking quite annoyed.

Carlos gripped the wheel tightly, his mind racing, trying to figure out what this all _meant_. “You don’t...you don’t remember what happened.”

“Why does it _matter_?” Cecil groaned, shaking his head in irritation as he slumped into his seat.

Carlos turned to him, his eyes brimming with tears. “They took you away. On the radio...I heard them take you. The secret police. I don’t...I don’t know what they did to you. I was hoping you’d know.”

Cecil’s eyes widened for just a moment before he nodded his head thoughtfully. “Well, now things make sense. It was re-education.”

Carlos stared at him dully, unable to remember if Cecil had ever told him about re-education before. “You’re going to have to explain that to me.”

“It’s just...it’s _re-education;_  I don’t know,” Cecil sighed. “It’s to keep the citizens in line who get a little too off script. I’m guessing I did something stupid, right? Something publicly stupid?”

Carlos chuckled darkly. “Yeah, you could _really_ say you did something _stupid_ , Cecil. Something I _told_ you you shouldn’t have been talking about, and you did it anyway!”

“Okay, but I don’t remember doing anything so please don’t shout at me for it,” Cecil said, looking a little hurt. Carlos sighed as he sunk back into his seat. Cecil had just stumbled back into the real world and was missing a chunk of his memory. That had to be disorienting enough without Carlos jumping down his throat about things he no longer had any recollection of.

“Yeah, you said something you shouldn’t have on the radio,” Carlos said with a shaky sigh, not enjoying remembering that night one bit, no matter how important it was. “And...they took you away. On the air.”

The tears that had been stinging his eyes for so long slowly trickled down his cheeks at the memory, and only a hand placed over his own brought him out of such gloomy thoughts.

Cecil smiled softly as he squeezed Carlos’ hand, and he whispered “I’m sorry. I’m sure it was terrible for you.”

Carlos sniffled and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, feeling incredibly selfish all of a sudden. “Don’t apologize. You don’t even remember doing it, so...What do you remember, exactly?”

“Oh, that’s a good question,” Cecil said brightly before furrowing his brow in intense concentration. “I guess it’s...well, has the dog park been built yet?”

Carlos laughed hollowly then rested his forehead despondently against the steering wheel. “Yeah, over a year ago.”

“Oh,” was all Cecil said in response before lapsing into another uncomfortable silence.

It was horrible, Carlos thought, to be sitting there on the side of the road so late at night, and listening to his... _not_ his boyfriend, he supposed, talk about things half-remembered. He found himself almost wishing Cecil had just been dead after all, because at least there was a psychologically defined grieving process to that. How the hell was he supposed to get over Cecil not knowing who he was?

“Carlos, right?” Cecil asked, and Carlos winced at how devoid of emotion it sounded now. “I’m just curious...would it be alright if I asked about you? When we met and...well, what I was to you?”

“We met the day the dog park went up,” Carlos said hoarsely as he leaned back against the driver’s seat. “I’m your...or _was_ , I suppose…” He sighed. “You loved me, I guess.”

Cecil furrowed his brow. “You _guess_? Did I never talk about it?”

Carlos chuckled. “Oh no, you told me plenty of times. I just…uh.” _I never let myself believe_ it, he wanted to say. “It’s complicated. It _was_ complicated. Or, I guess it still is, actually.”

Cecil fell silent again, which was appreciated because Carlos was finding he could only handle talking about these things in short bursts. This man…he wasn’t Cecil. He was so reserved, quiet. He was calm and put together, even after realizing he’d been re-educated. Everything that Carlos knew about him had just vanished along with his memories. Had he really affected Cecil that deeply? Had he really been the one to put the light in his eyes and the exuberance in his voice? All of those things that Carlos had chalked up to Cecil being an excitable man had been because of _him_ , and Carlos had actually thought it was the mad ramblings of someone naive about love. Part of Carlos was intrigued by how much he was learning about Cecil with the memory of their relationship wiped from his mind, but the other part of him was horribly disgusted by everything he was learning about himself.

“We should get back to town,” Carlos grumbled, turning the key in the ignition and bringing the truck back to life.

“Um, I know it’s not really any consolation,” Cecil said, wringing his hands anxiously, “but...if it’s what you want, we could try to start over. I just...I feel terrible about how much you lost.”

“Cecil, you've lost a _year_ of your _life_!” Carlos cried. “You should stop worrying about what I lost. Can you even get those memories back?”

Cecil stared at his hands in his lap and sighed. “No, I don’t think I can.”

“So then it doesn’t even matter, okay?” Carlos replied and put the truck into drive.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t make new memories!” Cecil shouted, and his expression was almost hopeful.

Carlos groaned and banged his forehead against the steering wheel. “Why does this even matter so much to you? You don’t even _know_ me.”

“I know that you saved me from being stranded in the desert! That’s enough!” he insisted. “Plus...it’s obvious I matter to you so...just let me do this for you. Please.”

Carlos was tired. His mind and heart were exhausted from being dragged through a gauntlet of highs and lows for the past week. His head ached, as did his eyes and his throat and chest. He’d had his fill of crying, of worrying, of having his hopes smashed against every wall that stood in his path. He wanted things to be _normal_ again. And Cecil, _this_ Cecil...he couldn’t give him that.

But then Carlos looked at him, and somewhere in the face of the stranger sitting next to him, he saw a bit of that old spark. That insistence on being in his life, whether he wanted it or not. That one nagging trait that had always been at the core of everything Cecil had been for him, and it broke him in a way that was almost soothing.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We can try that.”

Cecil smiled. “Okay. Perfect.”

Carlos grabbed his hand and squeezed it, fighting back tears and failing. “But I _swear_ to you, this time I’ll show you that I care.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos' insecurities are a little more difficult to work through than he expected

Cecil was on the radio again, which was an improvement. He wasn’t talking about Carlos either, which Carlos _would_ have considered an improvement if it wasn’t just a symptom of his memory loss. Cecil didn’t have any definite answers for him about where he’d been or what had happened, but Carlos had gathered that re-education only wiped out as much memory as the secret police saw fit to rid a person of. It was important to keep basic things intact to keep the town functioning, and to keep the other citizens from becoming too alarmed at having people dragged away.

Even though Cecil was no longer _his_ Cecil, it was still a comfort to hear his voice on the radio, the way it should be. What was slightly less comforting was a few days later when Cecil started coming around the lab, just wanting to learn more about Carlos and their relationship: how they’d met, what had attracted Cecil to him, how Carlos had felt about him, what their friendship had been like. It was off-putting. Carlos wanted Cecil back, of course, but Cecil was even more adamant about being with him than he’d been the first time, and it was making Carlos feel all the more anxious because now he just had a whole new Cecil to disappoint.

“What did we do on our first date?” he asked, resting his chin on his hands as he watched Carlos copy research notes onto his laptop.

Carlos blushed softly as he typed away. “We, uh...we did tests on trees.”

Cecil snorted. “Seriously?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to do!” Carlos cried in embarrassment.

“You couldn’t think of kissing me or anything like that?” Cecil asked teasingly.

“I _did_ kiss you, right at the end,” Carlos replied, taking pride in the one _good_ decision he’d made that night.

“Oh! Well that’s good at least.”

Carlos fell silent, staring at the blinking cursor in his word document as he drifted away into his thoughts. “You touched my cheek.”

Cecil scrunched up his nose in confusion. “No I didn’t.”

“No, when I was testing the trees,” Carlos continued, his heart heavy. “You touched my cheek, and...I didn’t know what to say, so...I just said nothing.” He looked up from the laptop and into Cecil’s eyes. “I’m really sorry that I didn’t say anything.”

Cecil smiled. “I accept your apology for something I don’t remember anyway, but why _didn’t_ you say anything?”

Carlos closed the laptop with a sigh and turned to face him. “It’s just sort of...complicated.”

“I know, you’ve said that before. But _why_ was it complicated?”

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, shaggier than ever with no intention to cut in in sight. “You were so...earnest about your feelings about me. It was weird. I barely did anything. I was just _me_ and you...you loved me for it. I didn’t know how to handle that, so I just...didn’t handle it at all, I guess.”

Cecil placed a hand on Carlos’ knee before he could drift back away into his mind, and bit his lip before asking, “Was the kiss good?”

Carlos smiled. “Well _I_ certainly liked it. And if your next radio show can be believed, you seemed to like it too.”

“Can we try it again?” he asked, his cheeks tinged purple.

“ _What_? But..why?” Carlos asked, taken aback. “You barely even know me.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Cecil murmured as he leaned heavily on Carlos’ thighs. “But I really like what I _do_ know about you, and that’s enough.”

Cecil’s lips were just millimeters away from his, soft and perfect, but despite the aching need in his chest, Carlos turned away. “No, this isn’t right.”

Cecil’s expression fell for a fraction of a second before he leaned closer and ghosted his lips along Carlos’ jaw and whispered, “But you like it, don’t you? And I _want_ to do this.”

Carlos jumped out of his chair and paced a few steps away wringing his hands through his hair as he tried to figure out what the hell was happening. This wasn’t what he wanted, no matter what the tightness in his pants suggested. This wasn’t Cecil, not really, and he wasn’t going to take advantage of a stranger, no matter how willing the stranger was to be taken advantage of.

“I…” he began before turning and seeing the hurt and confused look in Cecil’s eyes, and his heart clenched painfully. He was doing it _again_. He was treating Cecil like shit _again_. “I have to uh…”

Cecil sat there patiently, waiting for an answer Carlos couldn’t give him because the man in front of him was just genetically predisposed to fawn over him with _minimal prompting_ and it was unbearably overwhelming because...because _how_ could this be real? How could this be real and _last_? He sighed and leaned against the table.

“I have to focus on this work,” he said sullenly, fighting back nausea over the horrible decision he knew he was making. “So could you...could you go, please? Just for now, until I’ve finished.”

Cecil didn’t move, said nothing, and Carlos panicked. “You can come back later. I just... _really_ have to finish this.”

Cecil smiled sadly, mumbled a quick “of course”, and was gone in an instant.

He didn’t return, which didn’t surprise Carlos. This Cecil wasn’t infatuated enough with him to put up with his evasive bullshit anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos attempts to make up with Cecil

Carlos didn’t see Cecil for a week, but mostly because he wasn’t trying to see Cecil. It was his turn to make the next move, he knew. He’d fucked up, and he knew Cecil wasn’t going to come back, but part of him kept hoping the radio host would show up on his doorstep looking to try again. It wouldn’t happen, and it didn’t happen, and Carlos continued to hide away in his lab, unable to face how stupid he’d been. So he just listened to Cecil on the radio and wished he could make things right; that he could turn off his fears for _one second_ and just accept that Cecil loved him no matter what, and not even brainwashing could change that.

But he couldn’t accept that because Carlos was an idiot, and he was such an idiot that he thought staying in his lab and not going to talk to Cecil was the solution to his problems. Carlos was tired of being an idiot. He was tired of the ache in his chest whenever he heard the sullen tinge in Cecil’s voice. He was tired of the guilt he felt over destroying Cecil’s burgeoning new love for him. But mostly he was tired of putting up with his own shit. So on the seventh day after he’d chased Cecil out of his life, he went to find him. He wasn’t at his apartment, or the Ralph’s. He wasn’t at Subway or Arby’s. The bowling alley, the park. He wasn’t even at Big Rico’s. So, despite the fact that it was far too early in the evening for Cecil to go to work, Carlos went to the radio station, and there he found him.

Cecil was sitting in his sound booth with the lights dimmed, wearing a worn in NVCR t-shirt and jeans, and staring morosely at what would be the news for the day once he was on air to deliver it. Carlos closed the door quietly behind him.

“Cecil,” he breathed, not really knowing what else to say, just feeling relieved he had gotten to this point at all.

Cecil looked up sharply, but his shocked expression softened when he saw Carlos. “Hey.”

Carlos leaned against the door as yet another awkward silence settled over them. He hadn’t really planned on what he’d say to Cecil when he found him, and he certainly hadn’t planned on Cecil looking so upset by his presence. He didn’t have anything to say that could fix the damage he’d done, or even make Cecil feel friendly towards him again. Why had he even come to the radio station?

“You’re thinking again,” Cecil said, amused. “You seem to do that a lot.”

“You have no idea,” Carlos smiled and pushed himself away from the door, taking a seat on Cecil’s desk. “What are you doing here?”

Cecil sighed and pushed the papers aside. “I seem to have lost whatever hobbies I had, because I can’t seem to fill up the time before I have work. What did I used to do all day anyway?”

 _Me_ , Carlos wanted to say, but shrugged instead. “Not a whole lot.”

Cecil hummed thoughtfully and rested his chin in his hand. “So what are _you_ doing here?”

Carlos’ breath caught in his throat and he flushed. “I guess...I just wanted to see you.”

Cecil sighed and slumped back into his chair. “It sure took you awhile to want to see me.”

“It took me a lot longer the first time time, I promise” Carlos replied with a half-cocked grin, but Cecil wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

“Were you this evasive the first time too?” he asked with a frown.

“Worse, if you can believe it.”

“I can’t,” Cecil responded, and Carlos’ stomach churned with disgust for himself.

“I deserve that,” he muttered as he stared at his feet, just about to drift back into his thoughts before Cecil stood with a groan and paced around the room.

“I think you deserve _more_ that that,” he said, and his tone spoke volumes of hurt. “I didn’t have to do any of this, you know? I didn’t even _know_ you.”

“I know,” Carlos whispered, tears stinging at his eyes.

“ _Do_ you?” Cecil shouted as he turned to the scientist. “Do you understand that I did this for _you_? I entertained the idea of getting into a relationship with a _stranger_ to spare you the hurt my re-education caused you, and you threw it in my face!”

Carlos took a deep, shuddering breath. “I know. I _know_! I’m so sorry.”

Cecil shook his head slowly as he rested a hand on the doorknob. “I just don’t think an apology is going to work here, Carlos.”

Then he was gone, and Carlos was left gaping at the open door, his world crumbling in around the edges, and all he could do was...was get the fuck out of his own mind and _go after him_.

“Cecil, _wait_!” he shouted as he ran down the hall after him, grabbing him by the arm. “Please, I can’t let it go like this. You _have_ to give me another chance.”

Cecil pulled free of Carlos’ grip and crossed his arms. “First of all, I don’t _have_ to do anything. And second, why should I?”

“Because I fucked up!” Carlos cried, tears trickling down his cheeks. “You loved me and then you didn’t and...I’m just so used to you putting up with my shit, and that’s terrible-- _I’m_ terrible--and I’m so sorry and...just _please_. I can do better this time, I _can_.”

Cecil sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. Why should I even believe you? You said yourself you’ve already messed up again.”

“This time will be different,” Carlos insisted.

“How?”

“Because this time I’ll let you love me!” he shouted, grabbing hold of Cecil’s arms as the tears flowed freely. “I _swear_ I’ll let you love me. I’ll accept that you think I’m perfect and can do no wrong; that you’ll accept me for _me_ , no matter how awful I am. I’ll do it, I promise.”

Cecil exhaled slowly and averted his eyes, and Carlos recognized the look of a man getting lost in his own thoughts.

“Just let me prove how much you mean to me, because...” He paused, gripped Cecil’s arms tighter. “Because I love you.”

Cecil snapped to attention, his eyes wide, including a third one that had just opened. “You _what_?”

“I...I love you.”

Cecil paused, head tilted as though processing a particularly difficult thought, and then Carlos was immediately pinned to the wall as Cecil rolled his hips against Carlos’ thigh, and nuzzled at his neck, licking hot stripes along his jaw.

“I knew you loved me,” he whispered in Carlos’ ear, and Carlos’ cheeks burned.

“Wait, you _what_?!” He shouted, trying to wiggle away, but finding it impossible to break out of Cecil’s grasp.

“I knew you _loved_ me,” he repeated, breathing a few words between each mark he sucked into Carlos’ neck. “You just needed to realize it yourself.”

“Wait, _wait_!” Carlos shouted, and Cecil stopped swirling his tongue deep into Carlos’ ear. “What the _hell_ is going on?”

Cecil grinned so wide it split his face in half as a forked tongue flicked through his pointed teeth.

“Oh, my _perfect_ Carlos,” he purred as he ran his fingers through Carlos’ hair. “I’ve missed you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter when the sex happens

“Wait, you..you _what_?” Carlos shouted, but the hungry glint in Cecil’s eyes as he bit his lip was all the answer he needed. “You’re...you’re _actually_ Cecil? _My_ Cecil?”

Cecil squealed with excitement and nuzzled Carlos’ neck. “Of _course_ I’m yours!”

“No, that’s not-” Carlos began before his words gave way to a deep moan as Cecil pressed a palm to his groin. “No, Cecil, _stop_.”

Cecil pulled away, his face-splitting grin now an incredibly wide pout, and Carlos sighed. “You weren’t re-educated, were you?”

Cecil rolled his eyes and giggled. “Of course I was! It never works though. I don’t know why they keep trying.”

“What do you mean, ‘it never works’?” Carlos asked, but Cecil just shrugged in response, yet another unknowable Night Vale mystery. “So you were messing with me this whole time?”

“Of course not,” Cecil purred, wrapping his arms around Carlos’ neck. “But if I don’t play along for awhile like I’ve been re-educated, they’ll just keep dragging me back.”

“B-but...you put me through so much _misery_ ,” Carlos insisted, trying futilely to ignore the heat pooling in his groin as Cecil kissed his neck. “How could you _do_ that to me?”

“ _Ooooh_ ,” Cecil said thoughtfully. “So you were _miserable_ because I didn’t let you act like a petulant child like I usually do. That’s good to know.”

Carlos’ cheeks burned, and he muttered, “Okay, that’s a good point.”

“Mmhmm,” Cecil agreed and kissed the tip of his nose before being crushed against Carlos in a tight embrace.

“I missed you too,” he whispered against the radio host’s neck, and Cecil hummed in contentment. “But I’m still not happy about what you did.”

“But it helped, didn’t it?” Cecil asked hopefully.

Carlos smiled as he pulled away just enough to look into Cecil’s eyes. “Yeah, it helped.”

Cecil’s eyes shone for just a moment before turning an inky black, and he grinned from ear to ear. “Now that _that’s_ all settled, I believe you owe me a kiss.”

“I owe you a lot more than that,” Carlos replied, voice heavy with arousal as he pulled Cecil’s hips tight against his own.

“That’s good,” Cecil said, running his hands up under Carlos’ shirt to thumb at his nipples, “because I’m taking a lot more than a kiss from you.”

Carlos hissed through clenched teeth, bucking his hips reflexively. “But not here, right? Because someone will see?”

“No one’s going to see,” Cecil grinned as he pulled off his t-shirt, revealing a flat stomach and slender hips, “because I’ve already sent away the secret police that were tailing me.”

Carlos chuckled. “Oh, well that just makes it completely okay then.”

Cecil snarled, and half a dozen black and purple tentacles immediately manifested from his torso and pinned Carlos to the wall, his feet not quite touching the floor. “It _does_ make it okay, and you’re going to stop being so snarky with me because it’s been _two weeks_ , and that’s too long to wait to touch your perfect butt.”

“After all this? You can do whatever you want to it,” Carlos breathed, his cock already aching with want.

Cecil brushed his hand lightly over the fly of Carlos’ slacks, and he shuddered. “I wasn’t looking for your permission, Carlos.”

Carlos whimpered as Cecil unfastened his slacks and pushed them down around his ankles, stepping into the gap between Carlos’ legs and lifting his legs with two tentacles that weren’t already busy with keeping Carlos pressed to the wall. Carlos moaned and bucked his hips in anticipation, his hands bound above his head in a thick appendage, and his legs bound behind Cecil’s back with his own slacks. Cecil unbuttoned his own pants, agonizingly slow by Carlos’ perspective. He was spread open and vulnerable, dick twitching softly against his stomach, and so eager and _ready_ , but Cecil just grinned devilishly as he took his time pushing down his jeans far enough to reveal his pitch black tendrils writhing angrily against themselves, and Carlos whined as one of the larger ones snaked against his ass.

“Oh _god_ , Cecil,” he groaned as the appendage withdrew and was replaced with Cecil’s hands firmly gripping each ass cheek, spreading them apart even farther as one of his tendrils probed at Carlos’ entrance. “Please, _hurry_.”

Carlos cried out as it pressed into him, slick with its own secretions and flicking teasingly against his prostate, and gasped at the burn of being stretched as a second tendril immediately slithered inside him without warning.

“You’re opening up easily,” Cecil observed, pinpricks of violet blood welling up under his pointed teeth as he bit his lip.

Carlos yelped as both tentacles within him massaged his insides, wriggling wildly around his hole, opening him further. “I m-may have missed you...a bit more than I let on.”

Despite his pitch black sclera, Carlos could still notice the twinkle in Cecil’s multiple eyes as he plunged a third tendril up into the scientist and purred, “ _Naughty_.”

Tears stung at the corners of Carlos’ eyes, his cock throbbing with arousal and leaking steadily as the three tentacles inside him rubbed against his prostate in turn, and the two not yet filling him probed eagerly at his entrance. He _loved_ watching Cecil like this--so predatory and animalistic, so much less than the human he pretended to be--but he was quickly reaching his breaking point and wouldn’t be able to handle the teasing much longer.

“You need to hurry,” he choked out around gasping breaths, and Cecil chuckled darkly in response.

“Three isn’t enough for you?” he teased, manifesting one last tentacle to stroke at Carlos’ thighs, his balls, his dick.

Carlos shouted and bucked his hips into the touch, his voice coming in a slight whine through gritted teeth as he said, “I want _all of you_.”

Cecil’s cheeks flushed the deepest purple Carlos had ever seen, and the hands on his ass tightened their grip.

“ _Carlos_ ,” Cecil moaned, squeezing the last two tendrils up inside the scientist, and Carlos _wailed_ as he arched his body off the wall.

“I d-didn’t mean all at _once_!” Carlos sobbed before dying away into a steady mumbled stream of “oh _god_ ” and “oh _fuck_ ” because he was packed full of wriggling tentacles and his body _screamed_ for release. “I need...I-I _need_ -”

“I know,” Cecil groaned, and he wrapped a tentacle around Carlos’ dick, pumping it in earnest, and groaned raggedly as Carlos tightened around him.

Carlos came with a shout, his mind blanking out every sensation other than the tendrils deep within him and the larger one wrapped around his cock, beads of hot cum splattering against his shirt and stomach. The appendages holding him to the wall were loosening, slipping as Cecil’s breathing became increasingly erratic, and Carlos thought it prudent to grind his hips against Cecil’s, forcing his tentacles deeper to push him over the edge, despite the agonizing shock it sent through every nerve in Carlos’ body. Cecil made a sound halfway between a whine and a howl, pressing his forehead into Carlos’ shoulder as searing hot fluid filled the scientist, dripping obscenely down his thighs and splattering inky black against the pristine white tile of the station. Cecil’s legs buckled, and they both ended up sitting in the puddle panting heavily and trying to regain their higher mental faculties, Carlos legs still awkwardly pinned around Cecil’s hips.

“I think,” Carlos said between gasps, “I might still be mad at you.”

“No,” Cecil replied, breathing just as heavily. “You’re not.”

“Okay, I’m not, but…” Carlos trailed off and lifted a black stained hand. “But how are you going to explain this to your coworkers?”

Cecil shrugged. “It’s Night Vale? Random black stains aren’t something all that weird, and none of them have ever seen me come, so there’s no reason they’d suspect.”

Carlos leaned back against the wall and sighed in relief, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he was being bundled up in a gentle, wriggling hug and pulled closer to Cecil.

“Why would you still be mad?” he asked as he wrapped his two normal arms around Carlos’ neck and stroked absently at his cheek.

“Because pretending to not know me was a really harsh way to teach me a lesson,” Carlos replied, pouting only a little.

Cecil grinned. “But it worked.”

“But couldn’t you have just _talked_ to me?” Carlos asked, exasperated. “I would have listened! I know I’m not perfect and I’m _sorry_ for that, but-”

Cecil huffed in annoyance and wrapped a tentacle over Carlos’ mouth. Carlos glared angrily at him, but the radio host hardly seemed to care.

“You need to _stop_ ,” he stated calmly. “You need to stop insisting you aren’t perfect. You need to stop getting lost in that wonderful mind of yours and overthinking this.”

Carlos sighed and rolled his eyes, though just a little. He supposed he _did_ tend to overthink things.

“You’re perfect to _me_ ,” Cecil said, and tightened Carlos muzzle when the scientist groaned. “And it’s your imperfections that make you perfect to me. A man as smart as you should have figured that out by now.”

Carlos’ eyes widened, and the tentacle pulled away from his mouth. “Really?”

“Really,” Cecil smiled before pressing a kiss to Carlos’ lips. “Can you accept that?”

“Yeah,” Carlos replied with a warm smile. “I can manage that.”

“Good!” said Cecil. “Now let me untangle from you before I’m late for work.”


End file.
